The Worst Song I've Ever Heard.
Listen, I don’t like talking about bad music. It’s not enjoyable for me, it’s not enjoyable for you to read. That’s why I try to make my negative reviews as funny as possible, it’s not fun for anyone to just read and read about why someone hates a song, and are just moaning about it for a few elongated paragraphs. That’s why I never talk about the late 2000s and early 2010s; they are some of the worst eras of popular music in recent history, in my opinion, but rarely is anything interestingly terrible. Something’s lazy, something’s boring, something’s grating, but they’re never funny to talk about. The club boom of these years didn’t really bother me as much as everyone else; at least it’s a fun musical trend that has some energy and for lack of a better onomatopoeic word, “oomph” to it. The minimalistic snap/trap hip-hop that was popularised in the 2000s does not have any “oomph”, rather just “eh”. It’s boring to talk about it in almost any occasion, however, the late 2000s were when these trends started to fade away, and we got more club and electro-hop. Hence, the crunk and the snap just got lazier and lazier as labels started to feed off a dead trend. Journeying through the late 2000s’ year-end lists, I found a few gems, but also what I’d consider THE WORST HIT SONG OF ALL TIME and probably the worst song I’ve ever heard. Know what it is yet? “Pop Champagne” by Jim Jones and Ron Browz featuring Juelz Santana First, before any of the performers or lyrics, let’s talk about the percussion of this song, which is some of the cheapest and most incompetent crap I’ve ever listened to. So, there’s the normal finger-snapping which happens throughout most of the song except the hook, which replaces it with a completely different reggae-influenced drum pattern that sounds completely different and I’m pretty sure is nowhere near the finger-snapping’s BPM, and sounds incredibly uneven and off when both of the percussive elements combine, creating what is possibly the most unpleasant listening experience I’ve ever had. Even if I’m completely wrong about the musical technicalities, can we just agree that this does not sound good at all? Yeah, this sounds awful. How can anyone dance to this? How can anyone groove to this so much that it peaks at #22 on the Hot 100 and the top five of the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Tracks chart? I feel bad for the people in the video, it must be painful trying to find any possible dance routine to this stiff beat made by Ron Browz after he forgot how to find the WikiHow page that tells you how to make a listenable instrumental in his bootleg FL Studio. Also, by the way, if you’ve heard this song, you’ll know what I’m talking about when I just simply say these three words: “Two”, “cent” and “synth”. This sounds like it was whipped up in five minutes by accident and Browz thought to himself, “Okay! Now to send it off to two talented rappers – I’m sure they’ll love to hop on this fire!” Sadly, talent never equals intelligence. What talent collaborated to create this… musical masterpiece? Well, Ron Browz is a producer who’s made some decent hip-hop beats for other rappers in his long music production career, but his discography gets slowly more excruciating until its autotuned climax – “Pop Champagne” – and its slightly racist aftermath, “Arab Money” with Busta Rhymes. He can’t sing – trust me, that’s important. Jim Jones is a talented rapper who had a hit called “We Fly High” which isn’t actually that bad at all, but otherwise he’s just kind of mediocre. Juelz Santana is the only rapper in this song you’re likely to know, because he has had some A-list guest features over the years, but overall, he’d probably be one of the last rappers I ever think of when listing any popular rappers. The worst thing about this song is it’s not even lively or energetic in its terribleness (which I just found out is, in fact, a word). The close this song gets to more upbeat poppy liveliness is Juelz Santana’s incredibly short verse. Before I lose my sanity, let’s check out the lyrics. That probably won’t help, actually, when I think about it. How we ball in the club, I know you hate it You read me like a book, Ronald Eyebrowz. Your autotuned off-key screeching is just so baller, that I can’t go in the club anymore. Oh, wait… maybe it’s because it’s insufferable and just gets worse throughout the entire song. Mami dancin’ on the floor, all like she’s naked You can be naked and dance on the floor. You can dance naked, but you can’t dance like you are naked. What is this simile even supposed to mean? Girls dancing on the floor like she’s naked and having sex with you? Even I’m reaching here, Ronald McDonald, step it up! When she lay down with you, I know she fake it Yep, my nonexistent girlfriend is definitely faking her orgasms… in the club, while dancing like she’s naked? I’m not expecting Moby Dick here but can we at least have a somewhat consistent plotline? All the girls give it to me, I ain’t gotta take it Yeah, Browz is such a ladies’ man, he doesn’t have to take whatever they give to him. Oh, but if you don’t serve him drinks… We need more bottles, tell ma, hurry up …he’s a sexist pig. '' Tell ‘em, Ron Browz here, hottest in America '' out laughing You are very much mistaken, Non-Cowz. Give me sixteen bars and you know I tear it up This could go two ways. It could either mean he gets turnt up in any bar he goes to, or it means his sixteen-bar verse is so amazing that he just tore it up, which is entirely untrue since his verse is only 11 bars, most of which he sings, with the last bar being one line from earlier in the verse repeated twice. Know it’s me when you see this fur in your area That’s illegal. On my neck, on my wrist, everything is litted up You’d be better off using the word “terribleness” instead of the nonsensical fake word “litted”. God knows you reek of it. '' Drinking bottles of that Clique till I spit it up'' Do you do this near or on all these ladies in the club? Either way, how romantic. Also prepare for the worst vocal performance I’ve ever heard in a top 40 hit. '' Hey, if you’re in the things I’m in'' The only thing both of you are in is Ron Browz. Shawty, we can be friends, shawty, we can be friends Who would want to be friends with this talentless hack? When I go to the dealer, you know I cop that Oh, hi, Jim Jones. (What’s that?) With backing vocals from Ron Unibrowz. Brand new ‘rarri and the roof dropped back (The 60) You knew what it was all this time, you lying son of a – pg clean Money in the bank, man, you know, don’t stop that (Stop that, stop that, stop that) '' I feel Ron Browz is just shouting in his mic without knowing what on earth Jim is saying; they’re getting entirely different memos here. ''(We got money, b****!) Oh, wow, do you? We couldn’t tell! Blackberry, two-way Blackberry… I forgot this was 2008. We’re superstars, no Lupe Oh, Jim Jones, I like you but you are not Lupe Fiasco by any means. Dude, you’re not even close. We could do this like a duet One: that didn’t rhyme. Two: you already are. But y’all be the singers on the mic, wait, let me dim the lights You’re dissing and being sarcastic towards R&B singers, you know, like the guys in your song! Maybe they are in completely different rooms after all, or this was a throwaway verse. You dismiss his existence and then you diss him? What are you trying to do, Jimmy? How we ball in the club, I know you hate it Shut up! If you want Juelz Santana to bring some energy to this song, too bad! His verse is the shortest here and half of it doesn’t even have the beat behind it, and his energetic flow, delivery and performance is not backed up by any interesting punchlines or lyricism. '' It’s no sex in the champagne room'' I think Juelz actually confirmed that every single one of these performers is in a different room, but he also contradicts himself while stating the rules of his exclusive room, in the first lines of the verse: Baby, I wanna see your work, go, see you dance, go / Without no shirt, without those pants Burn the naughty content in the champagne room. '' Pop champagne, ain’t a damn thing changed / Spray it in the air, make it “champagne rain”'' I think this song was made for hypnosis; filthy alcoholic hypnosis. And God damn, is it working. champagne cork See, this is how Quavo pops your girl. whole bottle One drink to forget… and I think I’ll need a few more boxes of champagne to forgive these terrible talentless “musicians”. This is for you, Ronald Trump. another bottle This is for you, Jimmy Test. another bottle and stumbles onto the chair And finally, this is for you, Juelz Santana. Oh, how I wish you were the Latin rock band. another bottle whole and passes out up in a hangover; in a hospital Hello? Is anyone there? Doctor: You were found unconscious in your home. The cause of your coma is what we assume to be alcohol, considering the four bottles on the floor right next to your body. Me: Okay… thank you, doctor. Could you answer me this one question? Doctor: Yes? Me: There’s this line in a song called “Pop Champagne” by Ron Browz, which says “mami dancin’ all on the floor, like she’s naked”. Now, what do you think Browz means by this? Now, the reason I ask is because one is unable to dance as if one is nude— is there Oh, he’s gone. Nevermind… thanks for the help, doc! sighs How we ball in the club, I know you hate it Shut the f- TWITTER: @cactusinthebank Category:2018 Category:Mrs Chanandler Bong Category:Music Category:Songs Category:Lyrics